


Unsuppressed

by Riki



Series: written with a kink prompt [3]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, But Mostly Smut, Dom Katsuki Yuuri, Don't Post To Another Site, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, I just decided their world doesn't have stds, M/M, No Condoms, Oral Sex, Porn Without Plot, Sub Victor Nikiforov, Teasing, Under-negotiated Kink, d/s dynamics, noise/voice kink, very self indulgent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:34:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22931077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Riki/pseuds/Riki
Summary: Yuuri is always quiet. Every time they've met, over the past several months, he's been quiet. Soft voice, soft laughter, soft teasing, soft flirting. They've only ever met in the library, so being quiet is polite and considerate. But he craves Yuuri's unrestrained laughter. Yuuri's words rising excitedly, just a little too loudly as he loses himself in passionate conversation. Yuuri, unguarded, would be a wonder. And Viktor has to hear it.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Series: written with a kink prompt [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1655365
Comments: 80
Kudos: 266





	Unsuppressed

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Dachi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dachi/gifts).



> Might have overplayed how quiet you have to be in a library, but, well, porn.  
> This is... dirtier? Rougher? Either way, it's unlike the smut I usually write. I'm trying to allow myself to go different directions, and I hope you'll enjoy the result. The next fic I post is going to be a similar style but I promise there's more softer NSFW and SFW in the future.
> 
> I did my best with the tags, but as always, if I missed anything - ask to tag! I'll happily add them if they fit.
> 
> [TESS](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thewalrus_said/), THANK YOU SO SO SO MUCH!!! For the beta and for being a very sweet and supportive friend.  
> Also everyone in Kazul9's server, you're all just so nice to me, I'm thankful for you every day.
> 
> Dedicated to Dachi, because I wanted to say thank you.

Yuuri is always quiet.

Every time they've met, over the past several months, he's been quiet. Soft speech, soft laughter, soft teasing, soft flirting.

It's unfair to complain about it. They've only ever met in the library, so being quiet is polite and considerate. Viktor likes that Yuuri is polite and considerate. But the quiet is unbearable; it drives him crazy. At first he thought it was annoyance, but soon enough he realized it's something entirely different: need. He craves Yuuri's laughter. Yuuri's words rising excitedly, just a little too loudly as he loses himself in passionate conversation. Yuuri, unguarded, would be a wonder. And Viktor has to hear it.

Once Viktor knew what he wanted, he pursued.

At first, Yuuri was easy to rile up. Adorable blushes and frowns that make his nose wrinkle. Refusing to raise his voice due to the setting, Yuuri made his inflections and intonations beautifully expressive. But then he got used to it, changing the game so Viktor had to come up with new tactics. Soon enough Yuuri started returning his flirting and playful teasing. At first hesitant, but with more confidence every time, spurred on by Viktor's delight. They're pretty friendly.

Viktor isn't satisfied with being friendly.

"I saw you staring," he murmurs right behind Yuuri's ear.

Yuuri jumps away from the bookshelves with a squeaky sound of surprise, adding "Eep!" to Viktor's mental list of Yuuri noises.

"What— Viktor," he hisses. It makes Viktor want to hear his anger too. But maybe not right now. And maybe not at Viktor.

"Was I wrong?"

Stubborn and entirely unconvincing, Yuuri says, " _Yes._ " And then blushes.

Viktor smirks. "Are you actually here to study, Yuuri? You do a lot of looking away from the books."

Yuuri shakes his head and sighs, more fond than exasperated. "I don't choose to be distracted, Viktor."

"Oh, am I distracting?"

"Don't pretend you don't know." It's as close to a normal speaking voice as anything Viktor heard from him, but still maddeningly quiet.

Viktor licks his lips. They've been flirting for months, and this is as open an admission of interest as he's likely to get.

"Can I tell you a secret, Yuuri?"

The start of an indulgent smile playing at the corners of his lips, Yuuri shakes his head. "What?"

"I'm not here to study anymore. Haven't been for weeks."

Yuuri's eyes widen. His mouth shapes itself around a silent "Oh."

"Yes?" Viktor leans in, goading.

Looking hesitant, Yuuri lifts his hand like he's about to cup Viktor's cheek, but instead he pushes the fringe aside gently. It catches Viktor off guard and he feels his smile slipping, his expression softening. He might even be blushing. Brown eyes flicker across Viktor's face, searching. Once satisfied, Yuuri leans back. The hair falls back to Viktor's face in a curtain that doesn't seem to act as the barrier it usually is.

"Sit with me?" Yuuri offers, turning back to the shelves to look for his book. "You can be distracting from the chair next to mine."

"Sure." The word comes out a little strange.

It's not the first time Viktor sits near Yuuri, just the first time Yuuri asked. The rules of their game change again. A lovely little surprise. But this time Viktor doesn't know why or how, only that he feels very exposed. It leaves him... wary. Or thrilled. Either way, it's difficult to pull off his usual act.

Instead of teasing relentlessly like he usually would, Viktor lets Yuuri include him in his studies. The explanations aren't always easy to understand, but it's fine. The topic doesn't matter. As Yuuri speaks, Viktor absorbs the rhythm and cadence of his voice. An occasional comment is made whenever Viktor does grasp something, just to be sure Yuuri doesn't pick up on his disinterest and stops talking.

During Yuuri's pauses for note-taking, he quietly mouths to himself as he writes, inaudible but enticing. Viktor watches the movements of his lips. He wants to rest a couple of fingers on Yuuri's throat, just to feel the vibrations of the words.

"Almost done!" Yuuri declares at some point, barely above an excited whisper, and Viktor tries not to let his shoulders drop with regret. It's been the best of their days together, sweet and companionable. He isn't ready to let go.

Will Yuuri let him do this again?

The last of the notes are written down so fast Viktor isn't certain they'll be legible. Yuuri bites his lower lip, letting it drag out from between his teeth slowly as his hand moves across the page. Viktor can almost feel the scrape of those teeth on the delicate reddened skin. He wants to bite it. Wants Yuuri to bite him back.

"There!" Yuuri says, stabbing the paper to punctuate the last sentence, and turns to Viktor.

When Yuuri's bright smile is directed at him, Viktor finally manages to tear his gaze away from those lips to meet his brown eyes. He intends to share in the excitement, or pretend if he can. But before he can plaster a suitable expression onto his own face, Yuuri's smile drops.

"Viktor?"

Viktor does finally manage a smile, but it's nothing like the striking sunny one he's known for. Practically seethrough.

"I'm sorry, Yuuri," he says because doesn't like being the reason for Yuuri's expression wilting. "I'm very proud, I promise."

"But...?"

"No, nothing like that," Viktor laughs. He tries for playful but sounds painfully earnest when he says, "It just seems like you did the distracting this time."

"Oh! Umm," Yuuri blinks, a lovely pink coloring his face, "I— I..."

It's adorable. The stammering is almost nostalgic for how long it's been since he'd last heard it, with Yuuri being so used to his antics now. An honesty that can't be waved away as a joke is apparently all he needed to hear it again. The blush he sees often but never gets tired of. Even with Yuuri confidently teasing back, that blush doesn't go away.

Yuuri looks down and notices the mess on his table. "I should..." he says, and starts closing books and notebooks, putting away pens. Preparing to leave.

Viktor's hand on his wrist stills him, keeping him there just a little longer. Yuuri stares at it, watching as Viktor's fingers curl around his wrist and stroke the delicate skin under his palm gently. He shivers and looks back up at Viktor, lip between his teeth.

Doing his best to return a steady gaze, Viktor lifts a slow hand to stroke Yuuri's jaw. He trails a thumb along his lower lip and pulls it out from between his teeth. Yuuri lets it go with a quiet inhale of surprise. It's a lovely sound. Viktor wants it louder.

Yuuri kisses the pad of his thumb and Viktor nearly chokes on air.

"Yuuri—" he starts, but it's the start of a question he doesn't know how to ask so it's left hanging, incomplete.

Face lowered, Yuuri shifts in his chair to face Viktor. He looks back up with a new expression. Not determination, but something close. Viktor notices his trembling. Nervous, but choosing to be brave. To lean towards Viktor. To let Viktor lean towards him. To meet in the middle.

Their first kiss is the most wonderful and frustrating thing Viktor has ever experienced in his entire life. Yuuri's lips against his, chapped and soft, moving slowly. Exploring. It's a dream come true.

But he can hear their lips meeting and separating softly, over and over and over again. Clean and gentle sounds when he wants to grab Yuuri and drag moans out of him. Warm breath mingles with his own, and he wants to hear those little puffs of air accompanied by harsh, ragged breaths.

Quiet, quiet, quiet. There's a buzz in Viktor's head louder than anything in the building.

He breaks the kiss sharply, startling Yuuri into an apology that he cuts off before the first word has the chance to fully leave his mouth.

"Yuuri, come home with me."

"Ah—"

"Dinner," Viktor offers despite it being early in the afternoon.

"Um. Okay."

Relieved, Viktor breathes in deep and releases the air slowly.

Just a little longer.

It takes five minutes to collect Yuuri's things and they're out of the library. Viktor doesn't kiss him there or in the car. There's no way to anticipate his reaction to Yuuri's voice once he finally hears it the way he wants. Better to wait, even if the drive to Viktor's place is excruciating.

He uses that time to talk, enjoying Yuuri's speech as he indulges Viktor's questions and requests for stories. There are quiet chuckles in between, sometimes amused and sometimes embarrassed and always filling Viktor's chest with warmth. In return, he offers Yuuri the best gift he can: new stories about Makkachin. His responses are better than usual, away from the library and with studies off his mind.

In his house, Viktor expects to kiss Yuuri properly. But in the seconds it takes him to lock the door, Makkachin manages to jump and topple Yuuri to the floor.

A loud yelp startles Viktor into looking, and then, for the first time, he sees — and _hears_ — Yuuri's unrestrained laughter.

It rolls over him, ringing clear and open and filling the space from wall to wall. It's better than he'd imagined. Better than anything he'd ever heard. He's frozen in place, watching as Yuuri tries to squirm away from Makkachin's licks all over his face. Yuuri angles his chin as far from her reach as possible, only to laugh louder when she climbs further on top of him to give him more kisses. Usually, Viktor would help by now, but they're so cute he can't bring himself to intervene. Not when it would stop Yuuri's laughter.

Beginning to recover, Yuuri pushes her gently and sits to pet and scratch behind her ears, cooing between giggles. Viktor's hand rises to cover his mouth, keeping in words that would be very inappropriate so early.

"This is Makkachin?" Yuuri looks up at Viktor with shining eyes.

"Yes," Viktor says. "The light of my life."

"Looks like you're the best dog," Yuuri tells her. "I'm not surprised. I heard so much about you."

Makkachin slowly relaxes under Yuuri's hands, basking in his doting and his baby talk.

Baby talk. From Yuuri. Viktor's heart aches. He might not survive these two interacting.

"Did you know your dad has over a thousand pictures? And they're all perfect! You're a great model."

"Yuuri, do you want to wash your face?" Viktor cuts in. "I'll say hello to Makka, give her a treat and a toy, and... show you my room?"

Yuuri's smile is painfully tender. He pets her a few more times. "Yeah... That's a good idea."

There's something in his tone that's not exactly sad, but it doesn't let Viktor hesitate for more than a moment before he says, "You'll have time. Later. If you want."

Yuuri doesn't ask what Viktor means by it. He lowers his eyes and when they return to Viktor's face, they make Viktor shiver. Instead of lowering himself to the floor like he wants, Viktor offers a hand to help Yuuri up. Yuuri takes it with a last pet for Makka and Viktor points him to the bathroom, where he'll find soap and clean towels.

While Yuuri washes his face, Viktor takes care of Makkachin, checking that she has everything she needs for however long he will spend with Yuuri. She's so easy to appease that Viktor has time to spend a few moments showering her with more affection.

"You have such a friendly dog," Yuuri says, rubbing a towel over his face and making the skin pink in a curiously different way from a blush.

Days and months and years should be spent studying the different ways Yuuri's skin turns pink. Fever, hot weather, arousal. Yuuri's short black hair is wet around his face and it sticks in every direction, showing a little more of his forehead than Viktor is used to seeing. It makes his face look sharper. Viktor wants to see it styled properly.

He wants so much, more and more with every second. Shamelessly greedy.

"She likes you." He gestures for Yuuri to enter his room. "She isn't like this with every guest."

With a pleased little smile, Yuuri glances in her direction and steps inside. Viktor closes the door behind them, keeping Makkachin firmly _out._ Now they're alone, Yuuri's shoulders tense. He covers the lower half of his face with the towel as he surveys the room. Viktor's touch on his wrist prompts Yuuri to lower it, and Viktor sees that he's back to abusing the skin of his lower lip.

"Yuuuuuri," Viktor singsongs, touching Yuuri's lip so he releases it. "You really need to stop doing that."

Despite obvious nerves, there's only a hint of timidity when Yuuri says, "It makes you look, though."

Viktor pauses. He steps closer, into Yuuri's space, so he doesn't have to extend his hand when he brushes fingers across his cheek. Yuuri leans into the touch, his eyes staying on Viktor's.

"You don't need to do anything to make me look," Viktor says.

"I'm still getting used to that."

His voice is quiet again. It's different after the laughter.

"You thought you had to try?"

Fingers twist in Yuuri's towel.

"Yuuri."

"Until today I wasn't sure you meant the flirting like actual flirting," Yuuri admits. "It was easier to believe you did when you were looking."

"I was always looking, wasn't I?"

Yuuri smiles briefly, with a spark of amusement. "The last few weeks, yes. Once you... stopped coming in to study. I thought I might be able to—" He cuts himself off, his mouth staying open for a few seconds before he closes it.

"Yes?"

"You..." Yuuri's eyes flicker away but then he straightens his posture and looks at Viktor. His voice doesn't shake when he speaks, but it seems like a conscious effort. "You didn't want just today, right?"

"What?" Viktor says, stalling. It's unfair, but he doesn't know which face he should show, which answer Yuuri would prefer.

"I thought—'' Yuuri has to pause when the words aren't as even as before and Viktor feels guilty for forcing him to bear the full weight of this vulnerability. He shouldn't burden Yuuri with the absurd idea of Viktor's possible rejection. "I thought I'd get to spend a night with you. But earlier with Makka, you said... You said I'll have time."

Wanting to match Yuuri's courage, or at least reward it, Viktor takes Yuuri's hand and says, "I meant it."

The tension drains from Yuuri's eyes. "Then," he laces their fingers, tentatively hopeful, "after this...?"

"We'll have dinner. Like I promised." Viktor touches the corner of Yuuri's lips when the reminder prompts a lopsided smile. "And, if you want, you can join me tomorrow. I'll take Makka to the park."

"Being tackled onto grass does sound like it'd hurt less than tiled floor," Yuuri says.

Despite the words and the tones being nothing alike, Viktor is reminded of the library. He used to make flirtatious attempts to draw compliments, and Yuuri liked teasing him by pretending to think things over and consider whether the praise was deserved. Every single time, Viktor almost whined at him playfully. It was a close thing, barely avoided.

Leaning forward, closer to Yuuri's lips, Viktor asks, "Is that a 'yes'?"

"Depends." Yuuri's grip tightens a little on Viktor's hand. Definitely teasing, but with something more underneath.

"On what?"

For a split second, he thinks Yuuri isn't going to answer, but then Yuuri's breath touches his lips with the words, "Am I invited as your boyfriend?"

Air leaves Viktor's lungs in a rush and he crashes their mouths together, hand on Yuuri's cheek as Yuuri laughs into the kiss.

"Is— mmf— s'that a—" Yuuri tries to tease some more between giggles and kisses.

"Yes!" Viktor bursts out to stop the talking and dives back into the kiss.

Thankfully, this time Yuuri's laughter is very short — and so, so sweet — before he loops his arms around Viktor's shoulders. He hums into it, not just another hushed thing, but a sound that's free and satisfied and makes Viktor shudder as he gives himself over to the kiss. Yuuri's palm cups the nape of his neck and guides his head into a more comfortable tilt.

Viktor's hands travel down Yuuri's neck and chest. The first moan he tastes is shocked out of Yuuri when he brushes across his nipples through the fabric. He's devoured by the sounds and by Yuuri's lips as the kiss slowly turns messy, frantic, tongues and teeth and groans. Rather than linger on Yuuri's chest, Viktor reaches his waist and grips, holding on in an attempt to anchor himself as Yuuri overwhelms his senses.

Viktor is either pushing or being pulled towards the bed. Yuuri sits on the bed and Viktor bends to follow his lips, kissing for as long as he can. They separate with a noise of surprise from Yuuri when he leans back, expecting Viktor to follow him onto the bed, but Viktor falls to his knees on the floor. Yuuri blinks and frowns down.

The bed with Yuuri on it is enticing, but without thought, Viktor gravitates here. He's been fantasizing about this. About taking Yuuri into his mouth and hearing all the ways he vocalizes pleasure, without the distraction of being touched. Giving Yuuri everything he can with nothing but Yuuri's unrestrained noises to reward him. Kneeling here feels right.

When Viktor leans in, Yuuri makes an aborted noise and his hand jerks forward. Through the fog of desire, Viktor recognizes apprehension. Hunger plain in his voice, he says, "Let me?" and rests his head on Yuuri's knee.

"I—" Yuuri stops to swallow. "Really?"

Viktor licks his lips.

With a shaky breath, Yuuri's legs part further. It's all the permission Viktor needs to scoot closer and lean in. His nose nudges the bulge of Yuuri's cock, earning him a gasp. Viktor takes a deep breath. The smell is already delicious. Mouthwatering. Teasing through cloth is fun, but requires patience Viktor doesn't have. Yuuri's wide eyes follow him as he unbuckles and unzips the front, pulling and pushing away fabric until he has Yuuri's cock bare. Swallowing, Viktor glances up just to make sure, and finds nothing but fascinated heat in Yuuri's gaze. Holding Yuuri's cock at the base, Viktor wraps his lips around the reddened head.

All thought of technique flies from his mind with the texture of Yuuri's skin in his mouth, the mingled flavors of sweat and precum hitting his tongue. The hand at the base gently massages Yuuri's balls and Viktor takes his cock as deep as he comfortably can and sucks.

Yuuri shouts, loud and raw and beautiful, as he throws his head back.

"You—" Yuuri starts to say, but breaks off with a cry when Viktor moans around his cock and gets to work. Yuuri's legs start shaking and pulling further apart on either side of Viktor. A trembling hand flies to his hair and holds on.

Closing his eyes, Viktor moves up and down Yuuri's cock. It pulls his hair when Yuuri can't concentrate on keeping up with his movements back and forth. Wet noises are caused by his lapping, licking, slurping, sucking, but they're easy to ignore with the constant stream of Yuuri's moans in his ears. It drives him wild, floods his body with heat. Every bit of air that leaves Yuuri's lungs introduces Viktor to a new kind of pleasure, each sound tasting unique.

Viktor loses track of his list. Too many noises are new. High and low, breathy and clear, loud and quiet, drawn-out and clipped. Some escape Yuuri's mouth easily and others seem to claw their way out, scraping his throat along the way. Some get cut off as Yuuri runs out of air and some trail off until others take their place.

Keeping track of them all is impossible, but that's fine. He has time. Yuuri is his boyfriend now.

A bubbly, giddy feeling joins the heat and spurs him on. He takes Yuuri's cock deep, until his nose touches the slightly-coarse hair at Yuuri's crotch. Then he swallows.

"Ah— What— Oh, god—" Yuuri sucks in air before another yell is punched out of him and leaves him panting. _"Viktor!"_

Viktor doesn't open his eyes. His own body is an abstract, intangible thing and all he has is Yuuri's voice, flavor, texture. He keeps pouring everything he has into Yuuri, breathing unevenly through his nose as he focuses on the sounds he's drawing out.

The grip in his hair tightens and he yelps as it pulls him away from Yuuri's cock.

Yanked out of his daze, Viktor looks up. Yuuri's eyebrows are pinched together, eyes wild and breathing labored. His thumb swipes through the mix of saliva and precum that dribbled and coated Viktor's chin.

"You're a mess," he says like it's the best compliment he can give, eyes burning through Viktor.

"Ah—"

"Come up here."

Compelled, Viktor climbs up, forcing his legs to carry his weight before they're ready.

Once settled on the bed, straddling Yuuri's thighs, the hand in his hair holds him in place. It keeps him high enough that he needs to kneel up on trembling legs, just above Yuuri's lap. He grips Yuuri's shoulders for balance, fingers creasing the shirt and digging into muscle. Yuuri kisses a low spot on his neck and latches on, biting and sucking the skin with a groan that reverberates through Viktor's body.

"Yuuri, wait," Viktor protests, fighting the flames that burn in his blood as he's being marked. Even with his mind still muddled, he knows he can't sink into this. "You didn't even come yet!"

"God," Yuuri pauses to mouth along his collarbone, "you're so into this."

" _Yes._ Into this, into you, Yuuri—" Viktor squirms, wanting to get away and fall back to the floor despite the grip in his hair that makes it too painful to try.

"Look at you." Yuuri presses the heel of his palm to Viktor's cock, rubbing through the fabric, dragging a keen out of Viktor. "You look like I could make you come right now without even trying. You didn't even touch yourself. All from giving me a blowjob. That's... I'm not used to this at all."

"What?" Viktor's eyes snap open, outrage taking over. How can he not be used to this? Has no one ever appreciated being on their knees for him? Did no one before Viktor think to worship him?

Yuuri laughs, something low but reminiscent of a giggle. A fascinating sound that draws Viktor in. It's almost enough to distract him from the absence of Yuuri in his mouth, or from the appalling discovery that Yuuri isn't used to the kind of devotion he deserves.

"You look so offended," Yuuri says and there's wonder in his voice.

"I am offended," Viktor agrees, swallowing a whimper as Yuuri tilts his head up for more access. "Let me down, let me be the first to appreciate it—"

"You already are," Yuuri says into the tender skin under his jaw. "You're amazing—"

"Yuuri, please," Viktor breaks down, "I didn't even hear you come yet!"

Yuuri freezes. "Hear me come?" he says, low and smooth. "Not... make me come?"

"Um." Lust makes Viktor's mind slow. Or maybe too fast to keep up with as ideas and possibilities rush through his mind, fuelled entirely by the man holding him in place and surprising him with a voice that makes it impossible to breathe.

"You want to _hear_ me?"

The heat makes Yuuri sound like a completely different person and Viktor shivers. "You're always so quiet," he manages.

"You don't seem bothered right now. I think you like this."

It's too much, sending currents of electricity across Viktor's skin. He shudders and _whines,_ high and drawn out.

"Oh," Yuuri breathes, "Looks like I have a lot I haven't heard from you yet, either."

A spike of fear pierces through Viktor. He messed up. He let himself go too soon, and it can't be fixed. So much pleading can't be taken back. His panic rises — not yet, not like _this,_ careless, foolish — until the reality of the situation registers.

Yuuri likes this. He likes being shown this side of Viktor. Whiny, needy, desperate.

Relief surges in his chest, choking him, and only the pull on his hair keeps him from slumping against Yuuri.

"Please," he begs again, freely now, itching to show his gratitude. "Please, Yuuri, please let me—"

"Is that fair?" Yuuri whispers and Viktor quiets instantly to listen. "Don't you think I want to hear you too?"

With a sharp inhale and a few deep shaky breaths, Viktor gathers himself. He waits until the trembling isn't so bad to say, "Anything you want, Yuuri."

"Oh." Yuuri's eyes widen and his forehead drops to Viktor's shoulder. "You're— Wow."

Yuuri's hand leaves his hair, freeing him to sit in his lap. Viktor's muscles relax and he wraps his arms around Yuuri's shoulders, feeling Yuuri's arms circling his waist in return.

"Boyfriend," Yuuri says, his voice uneven and unmistakably happy. "You're my _boyfriend."_

Hearing Yuuri's joy matching his own has Viktor laughing and squeezing him.

Squeezing back, Yuuri sighs into his neck.

"Yours," Viktor says.

"That's not what I—"

"No. That's what I'm saying."

Yuuri seems to have no response to this. Nuzzling into Viktor's neck, he licks a patch of skin and finds a spot to mark. And then another, and another, snaking his hands between them and unbuttoning Viktor's shirt as he goes. Viktor bites his lip, keeping quiet too so he doesn't miss Yuuri's little hums and exhales. Unlike the sounds he heard from Yuuri while sucking his cock, these are calming. Arousal still buzzes in his blood, but it's easy to push aside like this, wrapped up in each other. With Yuuri's hands and mouth on him, he lets himself drift.

"You're holding back," Yuuri says.

"Hmm?"

"I said I want to hear you too."

"Oh." There's a pang of regret at the thought of letting his own voice drown Yuuri's out, but... "Okay."

"Mmm. Apologize next time."

Everything shifts. The balance that kept him calm is disrupted, and suddenly it's impossible to ignore how much he wants Yuuri. His head spins.

"Yes," Viktor says, the word forced out from somewhere deep. "Sorry."

The next mark Yuuri creates is a bite mark, but Viktor's sharp cry is more surprise than pain. Yuuri pauses for a kiss, murmurs a soft "Lovely" against Viktor's lips, lingers long enough to look into Viktor's eyes. And returns to his shoulder.

Whimpers and gasps come easily and Yuuri rewards him for each, gifting longer kisses for louder moans. It's a repeated series of actions: marking, kissing, looking into Viktor's eyes. This predictability is only broken by the occasional bite or word of praise, and it offers a different kind of daze. He trembles with need. Every sound that leaves him is a reminder of Yuuri's command.

"Thank you," Yuuri says eventually. "That was very educational."

"It was... Wha—?" Viktor mumbles, blinking his eyes fully open.

"You responded to every noise I made," Yuuri explains.

"I... Oh. Didn't notice that," Viktor admits slowly. "But... I could have told you. I love your voice."

"It's different." Yuuri smiles sheepishly. "Seeing how you respond to it, I mean."

There's only so much Viktor can see looking down at himself without a mirror, but it's obvious his shoulders and upper chest are littered with marks. Warmth fills him. Yuuri's method isn't so bad.

Smiling, Yuuri takes Viktor's face in his hands and kisses him deeply.

"Thank you," he says again, this time for no apparent reason. "Strip and lie down for me. Where do you have lube?"

"The second drawer," Viktor says, getting off his lap to sit on the bed and already shrugging his shirt off. He's more eager than he'd ever been in his life. "Will you take yours off too?"

"Of course," Yuuri says and stands.

With both men impatient to have each other, the clothes start falling quickly to the floor.

"You've done this before?" Viktor asks, still stripping.

Yuuri glances at him. "Undressing?"

"Giving orders. You do it so naturally."

The muscles of Yuuri's back are mesmerizing as his arm moves, moving objects in the drawer around and looking for the lube. Viktor forgets he's waiting for an answer until Yuuri speaks.

"I almost felt guilty, with you. I didn't mean to... Well. You seem to like it."

Viktor doesn't know how to interpret his tone or his words, but still corrects, "I love it."

With the lube in hand and the thud of a shutting drawer behind him, Yuuri turns to join Viktor. The blush on his cheeks shouldn't be a surprise, but it contrasts with his obvious comfort in his nudity. It makes Viktor want to kiss him.

When he lifts his knee onto the bed, though, Viktor calls out, "Wait!"

Pausing, Yuuri raises an eyebrow at him.

"Yuuri, your _thighs."_

"What?" Yuuri seems confused. Actually, truly, genuinely confused.

"They look... delicious," Viktor says, reaching for better words to describe his awe but finding none. "I can't believe I didn't get your pants off before blowing you. They were so close and I left them covered. It's a crime!"

Laughing, Yuuri climbs up the rest of the way and reaches Viktor.

"I forgive you," he says and kisses him.

"I don't forgive myself." Viktor loops his arms around Yuuri's shoulders, threading fingers behind his neck. "A crime," he repeats.

"You're ridiculous. Your thighs are nicer—"

"Blasphemy!"

"— and you don't get to talk," Yuuri says, ignoring the interruption. "Look at your chest."

"You got to play with my chest!"

"Hardly," Yuuri scoffs. But his eyes stray down to said chest, taking on a contemplative look. He brushes a finger across Viktor's nipple, making the muscles tense briefly. "I really should, though."

"You're going to kill me," Viktor says with a pleasant shiver.

"Oh?" Yuuri looks into his eyes, something in his expression making Viktor feel small. "You don't get to say that, Viktor."

Thumbs press roughly on Viktor's nipples and drag in circles. Back arching, Viktor groans.

"Not after making a mess of yourself just to _hear me."_

"Worth it," Viktor manages.

His nipples are pinched and he yelps, body jumping and convulsing under Yuuri's hands. There's no place for speech between his cries when Yuuri twists, not even a memory of words when Yuuri bends over one nipple and licks, sucks, _bites—_

Viktor yells, long and loud until it crumbles into a gasp when Yuuri lets go and starts licking gently, soothingly.

Viktor's fists twist in the sheets and he forces himself to stay in place. Yuuri keeps mouthing at the abused nipple and then offers the other side the same treatment. There's no air in Viktor's lungs for another yell. All that leaves him are short, choked, aborted sounds, his throat and chest constricting.

"Sensitive," Yuuri remarks casually as he lifts his head from Viktor's chest.

Air surges into Viktor's lungs with a loud, shuddering inhale. A stray tear trails down the side of his face, making him aware of how wet his eyes are.

"Oh," Yuuri says as he wipes tear away before it soaks into Viktor's hair. "Too much?"

A broken laugh disrupts Viktor's attempts to catch his breath and he shakes his head.

"Good." Yuuri's shoulders relax and he kisses Viktor's forehead. "I got a little carried away."

"Hadn't noticed," Viktor teases.

Smiling, Yuuri kisses his forehead. "You were right. It's fun to see what noises I can get from you."

"Taste of my own medicine?"

"Oh, no." Yuuri kisses him softly. "You'll have worse from me."

It's bliss. Taking a deep breath, Viktor closes his eyes just so he can open them again to see Yuuri. Still here, as real as before. Yuuri seems to notice something in Viktor's expression but doesn't question it. He just tilts his head with a smile.

"Viktor," Yuuri says, exploratory despite months of familiarity using his name. Making it new. Viktor always loves the way his accent changes it, but now more than ever.

"Yes?"

Yuuri shakes his head. "Do you want my fingers?"

"If that's not all I'm getting," Viktor says and leans up for another kiss. Somehow they keep growing sweeter.

"We'll see what I feel like giving you," Yuuri says, but he's probably aware it holds no real threat.

The first touch of Yuuri's lubed fingers makes Viktor tense, but slow circles around his hole allow him to relax. After being on edge for an eternity, his body being forced to swing back and forth between aching desperation and quietly tense yearning, the easy push of fingers rubbing in and out is both relief and torture.

"More," Viktor says before he can stop himself.

"Mmm. Not now. I don't want you holding anything in, including words, but..."

He's not going to get anywhere by just asking, then. Viktor wants to laugh, but Yuuri picks that moment to draw a moan out of him.

"Lovely," Yuuri says, pleased.

"Cruel," Viktor shoots back.

"Am I?" Yuuri asks and brushes his prostate again.

"Yes." The word comes out as a hiss of pleasure. Viktor starts again, trying to keep his words clear, and failing miserably. "Yes, cruel. Will you really not— Will you really—"

"When I told you not to keep your words in," Yuuri says and punctuates this with a particularly harsh twist, "I meant the ones that come naturally. Without thinking. I didn't mean you should keep other noises in just to speak."

"Ah—"

"Apologize," Yuuri orders, and Viktor burns.

"I'm sorry," he cries. "I'm sorry, Yuuri, I didn't mean— I didn't— _Yuuri!"_

"There," Yuuri says soothingly, completely at odds with the deep rough drag of his finger inside. "Just like that."

The sounds flow, words of pleading among them. Viktor loses track of whatever his voice is doing as Yuuri starts avoiding his prostate and does his best to torment Viktor in every other way he can manage. Marks are added lower on Viktor's chest and the tender skin of his nipples finds itself again in Yuuri's mouth, suffering the rough drag of his tongue. Fresh tears fill his eyes.

Viktor jolts with shock when Yuuri's mouth covers his, the first touch to his lips in what seems like hours. He moans loudly, pushes into it, drags the kiss for as long as Yuuri lets him.

"I can't believe how perfect you are," Yuuri says, taking his fingers out. "Ready?"

"Yes," Viktor gasps, his arms flying up and seeking Yuuri. "Please."

Pushing Viktor's legs up and apart, Yuuri climbs back on top of him. Viktor wraps his arms around him and holds on.

"I don't think I've been this keyed up in my life," Yuuri sighs and kisses him.

Viktor manages a laugh. It's absurd to hear from Yuuri after being placed in this position.

"My line," Viktor says as soon as Yuuri releases his lips.

"Mmm. It's because you're pretty like that. On edge."

A little laugh earns him a smile from Yuuri.

Eyes trained on Viktor, Yuuri gropes and kneads one of Viktor's buttcheeks. When the hand vanishes, Yuuri adjusts his position and Viktor feels the blunt head of Yuuri's cock. It slides across his hole once, twice, making him shiver with anticipation, and finally pushes in.

"Oh," Viktor sighs. "Yes. Yes. Yes, yes, _yes_ —"

"Pretty like this too," Yuuri grunts.

The slow stretch of Yuuri's cock has Viktor melting into the mattress, arms still locked around Yuuri's warm back.

Yuuri's movements in and out are agonizingly deliberate and careful, stoking the flames without offering real relief. He pulls away just a little and pushes back inside, deeper and deeper every time until he can thrust freely into Viktor. Rather than use this to fuck him with abandon, Yuuri experiments with angles. It feels good, so incredibly good, but everything is quiet. Viktor wants to cry.

"Wanna hear you," Viktor reminds him.

Yuuri only kisses the side of his jaw and it somehow amplifies everything, overwhelming him with craving.

"I _need_ to hear you. Please, Yuuri," Viktor begs, hungry for the sounds he heard when he had Yuuri in his mouth.

"I'm... trying to focus," Yuuri says. "Make it— Make it good for you."

"No," Viktor shouts and starts babbling without thinking, frantic voice rising higher and louder with every word. "Stop trying, please stop, not about me, you feel good, want you to feel good, wanna hear it— Let me hear— Yuuri, just _use me,_ please!"

The next thrust slams into Viktor and Yuuri swears. His pace quickens and it's perfect and uncontrolled, purely selfish, on the edge of painful. It makes Viktor feel raw, a numb tingly feeling spreading through his limbs. Yuuri's breathing in his ears grows irregular, moans and grunts and keens lacing between breaths and attaching themselves to inhales and exhales. Viktor digs his fingers into Yuuri's back, demanding more, holding on, keeping as close as possible to hear it all.

Distinguishing between their cries becomes easy when Yuuri tucks his face into the side of Viktor's neck, his forehead resting against Viktor's sweat-soaked skin. Feeling the vibrations of Yuuri's voice is almost as good as hearing it.

Everything sharpens as Yuuri loses himself, viciously ramming into Viktor. Between his voice and the way he drives deep into Viktor's body, sensation washes over him in steady waves. Every time his name finds its way among Yuuri's moans is a strike of lightning. It pulls him closer and closer, every sound adding to his desperation until he's clutching and clawing at Yuuri's back.

"Need to hear it. Come. Need to hear you come. Please, let me hear it. Please, come, in me, need you, please, please—"

Louder, higher moans accompany Yuuri's messier rhythm, and they're so good, they're perfect, so Viktor keeps pawing at his back, keeps scratching it, keeps begging.

"Yuuri," he says, making the name itself into a plea, "Yuuri, Yuuri Yuuri Yuuri, _please—"_

Yuuri's voice rises in a scream as he comes, broken by the heaving breaths he forces in and out of his lungs until he lets it overtake him in one piercing sound, loud and long and high. Heavenly. Viktor knows he's shouting too, hears it in some distant part of his consciousness, but his only focus is Yuuri's cry filling every corner of his mind, of him, overtaking everything.

It seems like ages have passed by the time everything is quiet again. They're wrapped up in each other's arms and Viktor feels Yuuri's cum leaking out of him. His own is smeared between their stomachs, somewhere between slippery and tacky.

"Yuuri?" he croaks as soon as he can talk. It's no surprise that his throat feels sore.

"Hmm?"

"You're evil."

With an amused huff, Yuuri says, "I'm glad you enjoyed it."

"Mmm. I really did. Thank you."

Yuuri burrows into his neck, unconcerned by the dripping sweat. It's good to stay like this, stretching the time until they shower and eat just to stay together longer. Maybe Yuuri will stay the night. Maybe he'll allow Viktor to finish his original fantasy between Yuuri's legs. It'd be less urgent this time. Viktor will be able to tease playfully, bite the insides of Yuuri's thighs, maybe show off his skill until he gets to taste Yuuri's cum.

Slowly, Viktor says, "I do have one problem."

"What?" Yuuri lifts his head to look at him. "What is it? Did I hurt you?"

"No, Yuuri," Viktor says with his best pout. "In the end you got to play with my chest, but I didn't get to play with your thighs at all!"

"Oh." Yuuri relaxes, lying back down. "Yeah, it really did turn out this way, didn't it?"

"Yuuri!" Viktor whines, long and theatrical.

Yuuri laughs and hugs him close, rolling them to the side and kissing his lips.

"I don't know which I prefer," he says with a smile that makes Viktor melt. "This — all a show for me — or the ones you can't help."

"All of them are for you." He has other methods to be annoying with other people. This one is special, and currently no one else gets to see it.

Yuuri closes his eyes. "You keep... saying things like that," he says in a strained voice. "No one ever gave me this much so fast. Or... never this much, at all, maybe. It's our first time together, we started dating today, and you're offering me... everything."

"Well," Viktor says reasonably, "I reserve the right to take it all back, obviously. But, Yuuri, I've liked you for months. And I'm already past the part that scared me the most. And this is my reaction, to your..." he scowls, "reaction? My reaction to your reaction. Huh."

Yuuri laughs.

"I really should have phrased this better."

"No." Yuuri kisses him, erasing the frown. "That was perfect."

"Good," Viktor says and happily welcomes another kiss.

"I like you too," Yuuri says. "Have liked you. For a while."

Keeping to himself thoughts of how easy it would be to fall in love, Viktor smiles and pulls Yuuri back into a warm, sticky embrace.

**Author's Note:**

> Viktor wants Yuuri's unrestrained voice and gets Yuuri's unrestrained self. It's more than he bargained for. He's thrilled.
> 
> Yuuri is radiating "Love Viktor" energy and Makka is drawn to that. I will entertain no arguments against this statement.
> 
> Find me and my art on [tumblr](https://rikichie.tumblr.com/) and [twitter](https://twitter.com/rikichie_)! Always happy to make new friends.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated! Even if you found the fic years after posting.


End file.
